My stomach turns.
I was so sure I knew her, but I think I was wrong. After she hurt me, I convinced myself she didn’t care about me. I let her push me away. I let myself hate her.
Maybe this whole time I missed how broken she really was.
I wish she’d talk to me the way she’s talking to Mallory. I want to know what went wrong with us. Not just the night Duke died, but what happened after.
We start the drive back home. Mallory is in the passenger seat and falls asleep almost right away. Emma sits in the back with her legs tucked up, and she stares out of the window.
It’s odd seeing her up close like this because this isn’twhat I’m used to. Our whole lives she was the one who filled the silence, but right now the only sound is the tires on the pavement. It isn’t right.
Is she still hurting? Would it be wrong of me to ask her all of the burning questions on my mind?
I know it’s too soon, and I stay quiet.
After a little while, I stop at a gas station to fill up the car. When I go inside I can’t help but stop at the cold case and grab a chocolate fudge bar. As soon as I get back in the car, I set it on Emma’s lap like I'm waving a white flag.
“What’s this for?” she asks.
I shrug, not wanting to make it seem too serious. “It’s your favorite.”
She touches the wrapper with both hands and she looks at me for the briefest moment before her eyes fall from my gaze again. She looks at the ice cream bar, not opening it. “Why are you being nice to me?”
“I don’t like seeing you upset.”
“Oh.”
My heart beats a hundred miles per hour in my chest as I wait for her to say something more. She doesn’t.
I shift my weight and start the car. I glance at her in the rearview mirror. “You should eat it before it melts.”
It’s dark when I get home, and Mom is sitting near the door. “Where have you been?”
“I know it’s late, I'm sorry. I just went on a drive.”
“You missed dinner.”
“I’m really sorry. I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”
She nods, mouth forming a hard line. “Your, uh”—herjaw slides to the side—“coachcalled me today. He wanted to know why you weren’t at practice.”
My eyes fall to the floor.
“What’s going on, Myles? Since when do you lie to me?” There’s hurt in her voice, and I hate it. I knew keeping secrets from her was wrong, but hearing the pain in each word is like a punch in my gut.
“I’m sorry.”
“Stop saying that, and tell me why you’re acting like this. You don’t talk to me anymore. Did I do something wrong? Because you’re never home and when you are home, you hide in your room the whole time.”
“It’s hard for me,” I whisper.
“What’s hard?”
My throat feels tight and I want to run away and hide again, but what good would that do? It would only make her feel bad and then I’d feel even worse than I do now.
“Everything changed when you got married,” I say.
“Do you not like Adam?”
